All of five minutes
left no sound in hallway no sound
not looking up at monitor no
white lights no go afternoon
in darkness now it's night
outside, outside where I'm shackled
indoors where I'm caged,
stuff the pastries in the drawer
momma won't see, momma won't hear
the collapse, prolapse
lights spark on more work
on the anal enema cure
more vomit for the clarinet player
more meals for the worms
reinforced concrete shit--
what do those sounds want
from me? How can I pay them in
song?
I am an awful singer and
awful giver--
I feel the November chill selfishly--
the Halloween whistle in
the lightened hall
isn't as scary as it would have been
with the lights out
I steal all that memory for myself
Wow. The concept here is fantastic, that a moment gives you something, a memory, and all that makes it cannot be repaid.
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